Power of Seduction
by Mrs. Witter
Summary: Rory Gilmore wants Tristan DuGrey to relax.


**Disclaimer: **At this place in my illustrious fan fiction career, the point is moot.

**Pairing**: Rory/Tristan

**Part**: 1/1

**Rating**: R for language

**Author's Note**:This was written for a Trory fan fic challenge so no, there will be no sequel. It's short, it's supposed to be.

Things to include:  
• distracted!Tristan  
• Seductive/aggressive! Rory  
• a red undergarment  
• the word "pomegranate"  
• Rating: higher than PG-13, hopefully even soft R or higher  
  
Things not to include:  
• Outofcharacter!Trory (that means that while they might be doing something they don't always do – Rory being the aggressor, for example – they're doing it in a way that would seem realistic for them to go about doing it).  
• Corniness

**Power of Seduction**

Rory Gilmore was bored.

She rolled over on her bed and checked the time, sighing when she realized it was too late to go out and stretch her legs. It was the end of spring term in her junior year of Yale, she had finished all her finals and now she was waiting on her boyfriend to finish all of his so that they could go back home together. Unfortunately, for her, while she was free and just dying to leave Yale behind for a summer, her boyfriend was busy studying hard, barely stopping for food, water, conversation and even, shock, _sex_.

It was weird; Rory had discovered that after the stress of finals was over, she got pretty damn horny. Or maybe it was just because she had a wonderfully hot and gorgeous specimen of maleness at her sexual disposal. Whatever the reason, she was restless, hot, and in need of the fantastic-blow-your-brains-out-so-you-won't-be-able-to-walk-for-a-week-afterwards kind of sex.

And Tristan DuGrey specialized in that department.

_If he didn't have his nose in a textbook every damn minute_, Rory thought bitterly as she swung her legs over the bed and went outside to see if Tristan was calling it quits.

When she entered the living room area, he was still in the same spot she had left him in hours ago, textbooks and papers scattered all over the small coffee table and a good portion of the floor. It was a rare thing to see him so focused, although part of his appeal was that underneath the lazy, laidback, arrogant and mischievous exterior was a will of steel, an amazingly adept brain and the determination of a bull. _And a body that doesn't quit_, she thought with an appreciative smile as she recounted the hours she had spent tracing each line, curve, muscle and contour of his body with her hands, tongue and lips.

She shuddered as her flesh broke out into goose bumps and felt the familiar ache in her core. God, it had been weeks since they had last made love, preparations for finals getting in the way. She knew it was unfair to want him to drop his books and have sex just because she was done with her finals but he was stretching himself thin. _And a quick fuck will help us both_, she rationalized to herself and made up her mind. Her powers of seduction weren't as well-honed as his but he had confessed to her one night that it didn't take a lot for her to get him going; hell, half the time she didn't even know what she did to make the feral, hungry look come into his eyes before he pushed her against or onto the nearest surface and had his way with her.

Not that she was complaining.

Squaring her shoulders and pulling her hair free of the sloppy ponytail she made her way into the room and sat down beside him on the sofa. He glanced up briefly, eyes lighting up behind the thin-wire framed glasses he wore. He smiled and reached for her hand, stroking his thumb across her knuckles as he continued to read.

"How's it going?" she asked softly, reaching over to play with the hair at his nape. "You've been going at it for hours."

"Not so good. Williamson doesn't grade on a curve," he replied, shaking his head. "And the bastard gives us open book tests but makes it impossible for us to find the answers, anyway."

"Aw, poor baby," Rory cooed and lowered her voice an octave as she leaned forward. "Is there anything I could do for you?"

He gave her a smile, totally missing her meaning and picked up an empty glass from the table in front of him. "I'm parched. Could you get me some juice?"

To her credit, she didn't let the shock register on her face and instead, took the glass from him and smiled sweetly. "Sure. Which kind?"

"Pomegranate. Surprisingly, it's very refreshing," he answered as she controlled the urge to roll her eyes. Tristan had gone on a health kick recently and it was starting to get on her nerves. _Whatever happened to the daring, reckless, live-life-for-the-moment, safe-looting Tristan?_ She thought as she trudged to the kitchen to get him a refill. _You wanted him to grow up_, a voice mocked her. _This is what you're left with_.

"Not true," she muttered to herself. Tristan was still the same, he was just distracted and busy and under Luke's influence. She just needed to remind him that she loved the wild side of him as well. With the glass in her hand, she walked back into the living room. "Here you go."

"Thanks," he said taking the glass out of her hand, distractedly. "What are you up to?"

"Nothing at the moment," she muttered under her breath as she sat down beside him again. Louder, she said, "Oh, I was just looking for something to…_do_."

"Uh huh," he replied, clearly not listening.

Time for the big guns.

"Tristan, why don't you take a break for a bit?" she suggested, bringing her hands to his shoulders and massaging them lightly. "You're all tense."

"I'm fine," he said flipping through the pages of his textbook without looking at her. "I really need to finish reading this book. Do me a favor and remind me to keep up with the reading _during_ the semester, Ror?"

"Relax," she whispered to him blowing her breath against his earlobe while working her hands on the juncture of his neck and shoulder; his G-spot.

"Rory," he protested lightly as she kissed the skin behind his ear. He shrugged out of her grasp. A little shocked and hurt, Rory faltered a bit in her decision to seduce him. He had a hell of temper and under stress the fuse was short. Or maybe she wasn't being aggressive enough. So she remained persistent and trailed her lips down the column of his neck, scraping her teeth across the skin. "Come on, stop it Ror."

"I think you need to clear your head and relax," she answered grabbed his textbook and threw it on the floor and then crawled on his lap, grinding her lower body against his as her arms looped behind her neck. She bent her head and pouted her lips, tangling her fingers in his hair. "Let me take away all that stress, baby."

His protest died against her lips as they brushed against his, invitingly. He responded an instant before he grabbed her ass with his hands. _That's it_, she thought triumphantly. Then, in an instant, she found herself on her back, deposited on the other end of the couch, as Tristan moved away from her and wagged his finger at her, a gesture that she would have found hilarious if she hadn't been put out. "Stop that, Rory. I need to concentrate."

"You need to fuck."

"Oh great, you made me lose my place," he complained and bent to retrieve his textbook from the floor. "Jesus."

She could hardly believe it. She was pretty sure that somewhere pigs were flying and that Hell was preparing for a frigid, frigid winter. Tristan DuGrey had turned down sex in order to study. It was surely a sign of the apocalypse.

As Tristan settled on the couch again, Rory huffed and sat up straighter and crossed her arms over her chest. "I want to have sex."

"Then I suggest you take a cold shower."

"Asshole." She stood up and glared at him, even though he wasn't looking. Oh God, she was probably the worst seductress in history if she couldn't get Tristan DuGrey to sleep with her. "I hate you."

He 'hmm'ed.

Suddenly, an idea popped into her head. Smirking, she squared her shoulders and glanced at her boyfriend who was reading again. _Fine, I'll take a shower alright_.

Determinedly, she grabbed the hem of her T-shirt and pulled it up over her head before depositing it on the sofa.

Tristan didn't notice.

Humming lightly, she turned around and headed to the bedroom, tugging on her shorts and kicking them off on the way there. When she got to the door of the bedroom, she reached behind her back and undid her bra.

Turning around, she flung it across the room.

This time, Tristan blinked as a fire-engine red, lacy bra landed directly over the page of the graph he was studying. He looked to the side to see Rory's T-shirt on the couch beside him and his head snapped up to see his girlfriend in nothing but matching fire-engine red panties, an arm strategically covering her bare breasts as she posed provocatively in the doorway of their bedroom, a lascivious smile on her face.

"I'm going to be in the shower, Tristan," she said innocently and then winked. "Thanks for the suggestion."

As all the blood from his brain rushed to his groin, Rory disappeared into the bedroom.

"Oh hell," Tristan cursed, chucked his economics textbook to the ground and started stripping on his way to the bathroom.

The End


End file.
